Javert's End
by TheatreGirl81
Summary: The Inspector tries to come to terms with Valjean's declaration of change.


Javert was pushed out the back door of the tavern, hands still bound. Valjean, the thief, stepped into the night air and closed the door tightly before leaning his gun against the wooden panel. It was the end for him.

_The world is upside down and inside out _The lawman thought. The leader of the rebellion had given consent for Valjean to execute the "spy" in their midst. It was ironic that Javert's life would be ended by the man who he had been chasing for almost twenty years.

The inspector couldn't help but get one last jab in. "This will make you happy, won't it? Once you shoot me you can go back to your life of crime and not have to look behind you. But I say to you: if you kill me my blood will be on your hands and one day you will pay for all you have done."

"Why do you hate me, Javert?" the thief asked. "I don't hate you, you have to know that. And I don't resent you for anything you've done; it was your duty. But I have served my time and made peace with God. All I want to live in peace."

The man's words were infuriating. "Once a criminal, always a criminal."

"People can change."

"Men like you never change."

"Maybe if you gave me a chance…"

"This is pointless," Javert said. "Stop stalling and get it over with. Kill me and then you will be free."

Knowing that he had to work fast, Valjean pulled out a knife and moved toward the Inspector.

Javert smiled sardonically. "A knife, how fitting."

Valjean ignored the man's japes and moved quickly. Slipping the knife between the ropes he cut the cords, allowing Javert to have full use of his hands.

"I don't understand."

"You're free," the thief said.

Javert was not convinced. "What are you going to do, shoot me in the back? What are your terms for this act of kindness?"

"Nothing," Valjean replied. "This is no trick. You are free and you do not owe me anything."

"If you are telling truth, and if you are letting me go, I will never stop hunting you."

The criminal bowed his head. "I know. But you must leave now. If the students find you alive they will not be as forgiving as I. If we survive this I will be at number 55 Rue Plumet."

Javert opened his mouth to make a snide quip in retaliation, but thought better of it. Jean Valjean was right after all, the students would kill him. Still not trusting the ex-convict, Javert turned and ran. He heard a gunshot and then silence.

Javert walked the streets as his men laid out the bodies of the dead revolutionaries. Javert knew they were only students, but they had defied the government and had risen up to overthrow the law. Now they had paid for that crime and everyone else would see what happened when the law was mocked.

Javert had lived by the law his entire life. It had been his penance: recompense for the life his parents had lived. The inspector had lived his life to the letter of the law so that there would be no connection to his convict father or the mother who had birthed him in her prison cell.

The inspect was looking for someone amidst the dead: the escaped convict Jean Valjean. True, the man had spared his life, but Javert could not let him stay on the run. That man was the only blank space on Javert's perfect record. The only criminal not brought to justice for his crimes.

"You there, are these all the bodies?"

The young officer looked up. "Sir?"

Javert narrowed his eyes. "Did you find any other bodies?"

"No sir," the officer replied.

"He's not here." Javert turned on a heel and began to stalk away.

"Who sir?"

"The ghost that has been haunting me for twenty years…" the inspector stopped suddenly. "Where does this drain go?"

The officer came over and inspected the grate that had been moved to reveal a large pipe that disappeared into blackness.

"The sewers I'd suspect."

"Get some men, we're going after a very dangerous man," Javert told him. "Do you know where the exit is?"

The inspector had been right. He could see someone coming out of the sewers. Moving closer he saw that it was, in fact, Valjean. And he was carrying a corpse over his shoulder. So the man had moved from theft to murder! It was time to take him off the street and see him locked away in prison.

"Jean Valjean stay where you are," he yelled.

The men with him train their weapons on the fugitive.

"Javert please…"

"Do not try to get away. You are thief, an escaped con, a revolutionary and a murderer. Resisting arrest will only result in your death."

"He's not dead," Valjean insisted, "but he is badly wounded. Please allow me to take him to a doctor or to his grandfather so that he can get proper care."

"Do you take me for a fool?" the inspector questioned. "Do you think I will allow you to rush off and disappear again?"

"Come with me then," Valjean replied. "But I'll not have this boy's death on my conscious. Do you want more innocent blood on your?"

"I have no blood on my hands," Javert told him.

"Do you remember how you killed Fantine?" Valjean said. "How you spoke to her on her death bed, saying her daughter wasn't there? That might have been the truth, but she needed comfort in her last moments."

The inspector was forced to think back to that night. After a moment he said: "Who is the boy's grandfather?"

"Monsieur Gillenormand," Valjean replied. "The father of Colonel Georges Pontmercy, whose dying son is here in my arms."

"I'll take you myself," the inspector replied curtly. "Come with me."

The rode the whole way in silence and it was Javert who knocked on the door at the address on the paper in Marius' pocket. The note had said to bring Marius' body to this address if he was killed during the revolution.

A pale, worried woman opened the door. "Hello? Can I help you?"

"Madam, do you know this young man?" javert gestured to the inert body Valjean was carrying. "We were told…"

"Marius! That's my nephew Marius." Tears streamed down her face. "Is he… Tell me he's not dead."

"Just wounded," Valjean assured her.

"Bring him in quickly," the woman said. "Come in, please. Thank you, both of you. Father!"

Javert stepped back and closed the door to the house. He walked back to the carriage and got in. In his mind he knew that it was wrong to drive off and leave the criminal, but somewhere in his heart he knew it was the right thing to do.

But he was disobeying the law. In one moment he had undone his entire life's work. This man, this criminal, had shown him that bad people could change. It was obvious that Valjean cared nothing for himself.

Javert didn't know the connection the thief held to the Pontmercy boy, but he must have been special since that girl had taken a shot meant for him at the barricades.

Remembering the earlier conversation with Valjean, Javert headed towards Rue Plumet. He wanted to see if the thief had spoken the truth. Number 55…

An old woman opened the door. "Can I help you, Sir?"

"My name is Inspector Javert and…"

"Monsieur is not home," the woman told him. "But he did say you might drop by. If he comes back I will tell him…"

"Is the girl in there with you? A girl named Cosette?"

The woman took a step back. "How do you know that name?"

"I am well aquainted with the man she call 'father' Madam," he replied. "Tell the girl not to worry. He is alive and will be home safe with her soon enough, possibly even tonight."

"And you're sure?"

"Quite sure, madam." He removed his hat. "Might I ask an odd favor? Could I come into to his office and write him a note, to let him know that I was here in his absence?"

"I can pass along any message you want," she replied haughtily.

"Tell him… Tell him that he is free. That I will not bother him again. And if he needs proof, tell him to read the paper every day until he sees the proof laid out for him, he'll understand when he sees it." He bowed low. "Good evening."

He turned and walked back to the carriage. Snapping the reins, he drove off again towards the river. Night was falling and the cool dark was comforting to Javert. Stopping the carriage, he got out and took a walk along the river. When he came upon a bridge he stopped.

This was the perfect spot: it was picturesque in the light of the moon. He closed his eyes and drew in a breath. "I wonder… did he know what he was doing when he cut that rope? He held my life in his hands and he let me go free. It was my right to die then and there, to die with honor and dignity. But he robbed me of that, robbed me of everything I knew and held dear. There can only be one: Valjean or Javert. By allowing me to live he has killed me. There is nothing left… I can't go on…"

Leaning over the brick wall, Javert stared at his reflection in the water and barely recognized the face staring back at him. It was a man devoid of purpose. Taking off his Inspector's badge, he set it on the wall. Then he stepped up onto the ledge.

Raising his face to the moon he took a step. He felt the wind first then the cold water. Darkness consumed him and then there was nothing.


End file.
